


After the War

by ThedasWitch



Series: Red and Blue [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, F/M, Interspecies Awkwardness, Moving In Together, Post-Game, shepard and garrus try to be normal people, shepard's parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:57:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 14,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5658613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThedasWitch/pseuds/ThedasWitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Reapers were destroyed, Garrus and Shepard didn’t stop working. Two years later, they’re finally starting to find a new kind of normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My Shepard is an Adept, Spacer Sole Survivor background.
> 
> Mostly canon compliant, but some tweaks to the consequences of the game ending.
> 
> Rating is for the work as a whole; chapters that actually have mature/explicit content will have a note at the beginning.
> 
> ///EDIT: I went through and tweaked a few sentences, because I realized the timeline I had started setting up didn't quite fit what I wanted to be happening. No major plot change, but I changed it to have been _two_ years since the Reaper war instead of just one; I felt like the amount of rebuilding I wanted to be finished or nearly finished works better with more time to do it.///

Something was making noise.

Something was making noise, and it _wouldn't stop_. It was a beeping that only seemed to get faster and louder the longer it went.

Shepard rolled over and scrunched her eyes tighter, hoping that if she ignored it the beeping would go away.

She heard Garrus rumble as the sound woke him too. He rolled to press against her back, throwing an arm over her waist. "I think it's for you, Shepard," he murmured into the side of her neck. " _I_ remembered to silence my Omni-tool before bed." The movement of his mandible against her skin tickled. "Granted," he continued, "it's hard to remember things like that when you're busy doing...other things."

She laughed, remembering just how he'd kept her busy the night before. All she wanted was to stay in bed with her boyfriend and revisit those memories. But even though she was _supposed_ to have some freedom to choose assignments these days--and she thought she'd done enough already by _destroying the fucking Reapers_ \--she knew that there was always some mess that apparently no one else could clean up. She pulled away from Garrus and sat on the edge of the bed.

It was always a little bit of a relief to wake up in her own cabin, on her own ship. After the months spent in hospitals and rehabilitation centers, it felt good to know exactly where she was and what was around her. Garrus had officially moved into the cabin with her, but other than the new additions of his armor, possessions, and a few Turian-designed pillows, her quarters were essentially unchanged since she’d gotten the ship back from the Alliance.

Shepard stood and walked to the desk with her comm terminal, the alert still squawking at her. It was a message from a Council liaison. _Because of course it fucking was_. Even with the Citadel mostly restored, they still seemed to need her to put out fires (that were, except for one memorable instance, metaphorical) at every hour of the day. And they seemed to have an uncanny ability to call exactly when she was in the middle of finally enjoying something, whether it was a good night’s sleep or a moment with Garrus.

Jaina scrolled through the message, scanning it for anything that needed to be taken care of right away. Like a lot of the messages she seemed to get lately, it was not nearly as urgent as the sender made it out to be. But her presence was “requested” at the Citadel embassies, so she send a message to EDI to divert their course in that direction. In the meantime, she figured she could take at least a few more hours to sleep before they actually arrived.

With a groan, she pulled herself out of the chair and stretched, popping the kinks out of her spine. Miranda’s rebuild notwithstanding, you didn’t serve as a career marine without accumulating your fair share of creaks and aches. She crossed back to the bed and collapsed onto the mattress, burrowing under the covers. Garrus had rolled to face away from her, so she curled up against his back and wrapped her arms around the barrel of his chest.

Turians weren’t exactly built for easy cuddling, but by now she’d had plenty of practice. Garrus was very angular, yes, but he was warm, and he was hers, and, most importantly, he was _Garrus_. And she’d take hours of awkwardly shifting into position over spending a single night without him.

“Anything important?” Garrus asked, twining one of his hands with hers.

“Nothing that can’t wait until I’ve gotten some damn sleep,” she replied. “They want us back on the Citadel as soon as possible, but the Council can deal with the mess themselves for a little while. It's _probably_ not another invasion of evil AIs bent on destroying all sentient life in the galaxy.”

“Don't even joke,” said Garrus. “Given our luck, I think we're overdue for another crisis and a suicide mission or two.”

“As long as the night before the mission is as good as last time…” Jaina said, running her fingertips teasingly over Garrus’ keel bone.

Garrus rolled to his back and pulled Shepard to his side. “I seem to remember someone who looks a lot like you complaining about needing some damn sleep. Someone who’s going to need the rest if she has to deal with the Council first thing in the morning.”

Jaina groaned. “I hate it when you’re right.” She tucked her head against his chest. “Well,” she said, yawning, “we’re all due for some shore leave anyway. We’ll dock at the Citadel, take care of what we need to, then take a few days off for some R&R.”

“Sounds good,” said Garrus, already halfway back to sleep.

“’Night, Garrus.”

“Goodnight, Shepard.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day of Spectre-ing (or, you know, running errands for the Council), Shepard finally gets the chance to see her boyfriend.

If Jaina had to listen to another minute of the volus and elcor representatives arguing, she was going to light up her biotics and throw them both out a window.

Between the elcor’s monotone and the volus’s wheezing, the whole interaction was drawn out three times longer than it needed to be, and eight times more painful. If she had to sit and listen to the elcor say “with forced politeness” one more time, or listen to the volus’s suit whir and pump for a minute longer, her head was going to explode.

She couldn’t believe this was the important business the Council needed taken care of immediately: mediating the discussion over office placement in the new Presidium embassy. Apparently she was the only one both groups respected enough to make a final decision without causing a galactic incident.

 _Fuck_ , but she needed a drink.

Her omni-tool pinged, and she checked it discretely, hoping it looked like she was dealing with important Spectre business.

 

**_Hanging in there?_ **

**_-Archangel,_ **

**_Badass With A Great Ass_ **

 

**_Did you change my username again?_ **

**_-The First Human Spectre’s First Turian Boyfriend_ **

**_I send official messages from this account, Shepard_ **

**_-Garrus Vakarian,_ **

 

**_The Very Official And Very Professional Calibration Expert_ **

**_Very cute. Drinks later?_ **

**_-Garrus Vak-ass-ian,_ **

  ** _Owner of Palaven’s Finest Ass_**

 

**_Oh GOD yes._ **

**_-J. Shepard,_ **

  ** _N7-class Alliance Commander,_**

**_Council Spectre_ **

 

**_See you then, Vak-ass-ian_ **

**_-J. Shepard,_ **

**_N7-class Alliance Commander,_ **

**_Council Spectre_ **

 

**_Remind me never to leave you alone with my Omni-Tool again_ **

**_-Garrus Vakarian,_ **

**_My Favorite Boyfriend on the Citadel_ **

 

* * *

 

Several hours--and increasingly-boring meetings--later, Shepard was finally on her way to meet Garrus at their favorite bar, so their shore leave could actually get started. She sat back in the cab and scrolled through her inbox as the car pulled away from the Presidium offices housing the temporary embassies.

She read over a status report on the Normandy from EDI, listened to Liara’s latest message about the rebuilding on Thessia, and glanced over more pictures of Tali’s nearly completed house on Rannoch--apparently the guest room was already made up for visitors, and Shepard made a mental note that they should stop by the next time they were near the Tikkun System. Traynor had just finished her honeymoon, and the new Mrs. Traynor-Allers would be returning to her post on the Normandy once they were settled in their new apartment. There was a message from Vega, who had just finished his official N7 training and was coming to the Citadel for a short leave. He wanted to meet somewhere and catch up on everything that had happened in the two years since London.

 _And besides, Lola,_ he wrote, _gotta make sure that you haven’t forgotten how to throw a punch while you’ve been riding a desk and schmoozing diplomats._

She smiled. It’d be good to see him again. And she couldn’t wait to show him the new tricks she’d picked up sparring with one of the Turian military’s hand-to-hand combat experts. James was in for a surprise if he thought she’d gone soft.

Jaina sent off a quick reply as the cab pulled up to the bar, before getting out and looking around for Garrus. He wasn’t waiting outside, probably already holding their spot at the bar.

Sure enough, when she walked in the bar, the Turian was the first person she saw. Garrus was perched--as much as a Turian could perch--on a stool in their usual place, in sight of all three exits and not too close to dancefloor. He was talking to the bartender, and she took advantage of the few moments before he met her eyes, watching him appreciatively. It was strange to her, sometimes, how it managed to feel both like she’d known him a lifetime and like she was just discovering him all over again.

The scars on his face were about as faded as they were ever going to be, and the blue of his clan markings seemed bright in the dim lighting. Out of habit, she glanced him up and down, making sure that there were no new injuries or scars since the last time they’d spoken. Shepard knew, logically, that he probably hadn’t gotten into any firefights in one afternoon on the Citadel, and that she would’ve been told if anything _had_ happened, but there was a tiny part of her that always feared what might happen when people she loved were out of sight. There was nothing out of the ordinary to be concerned over, though, no changes other than the gradual ones incurred in the time they’d known each other.

He had filled out in some areas since their first meeting, lost weight in others, but he was still Garrus, still her squadmate and her best friend and the love of her life. His eyes were as bright as they’d ever been, but their gaze seemed older, somehow. She guessed that she, and everyone who fought and lived through the Reaper War, shared that with him.

Shepard was broken out of her thoughts when Garrus finally noticed her, his mandibles flaring in his version of a smile. An answering grin spread across her face, and Jaina crossed the room to join him at the bar. Garrus wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and touched their foreheads together in a Turian kiss.

Shepard closed her eyes leaned into the embrace. She loved kissing him the human way, exploring his alien mouth with her lips and tongue, but this gesture always felt incredibly intimate and tender, no matter where they were.

“Long day?” he asked as she sat down and ordered her usual.

“You could say that again,” she replied, taking a big drink from the glass the bartender slid to her. “They had been doing the most annoying errands, one after the other, all day. Apparently deciding who gets which office space in the new embassies is _such_ an important decision that they needed a Spectre to make it. And God forbid that the elcor ambassador’s office suite is a single meter smaller than the volus ambassador’s, because,” she imitated the ambassador’s flat intonation “‘with barely restrained indignation,’ how would that appear to the other races on the Citadel?” Shepard rolled her eyes. “I fucking hate politicians.”

She emptied the glass with another large swig, motioning for a refill. Garrus looked at her sympathetically, and indicated that the bartender should leave the bottle. “Then, as your boyfriend, I think it’s my duty to keep you drinking until you forget why you started.”

“See, that’s why I love you.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus has a surprise planned for Shepard.

Bad Turian or not, Garrus Vakarian took certain of his duties very seriously.

Which meant that Shepard was thoroughly buzzed only an hour later. She wasn’t completely hammered--Cerberus implants did wonders for the liver--but she was definitely enjoying herself. She felt a bit looser, a bit warmer, and a bit shinier. And more than a bit handsier.

Jaina slid her hand up Garrus’s thigh, watching the way his mandibles twitched at the contact. “Something the matter, Vakarian?” she asked, enjoying the reaction he failed to hide as her hand stroked up and down the leg of his pants.

Garrus shifted in his seat, leaning in to whisper in Jaina’s ear. “Shepard…” he growled, flirtation and warning both in his voice. “You get me distracted now, you’ll never get to see the surprise I’ve got planned…”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “Oh really, Vakarian?” Her hand crept a little higher on his thigh. “Is it a big surprise?”

Spirits, he loved this woman, but she was about as subtle as a half-deaf Krogan.

“You could say that,” he said, gently gripping her wrist and moving her hand to a safe distance on the bar counter. “But it’s not what you’re thinking. We need to get going if you want to see it tonight.”

He stood and, still holding her hand, pulled Shepard along with him to the bar’s entrance. He hailed a skycar, and, despite his earlier protests, pulled Jaina in close as they waited. Her small human hands trailed teasingly along his waist, and she pressed a line of kisses along his scarred mandible. Garrus groaned, his subvocals dropping an octave. “Jaina…”

She pulled away abruptly, holding her hands up in the air in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Hands off, I promise.” She eyed him up and down. “At least until I see this ‘big surprise’ of yours. Although I don’t know why you’re being so mysterious about it,” she continued, raising an eyebrow at him, “it’s not like I haven’t seen _everything_ you could surprise me with before. In our bed, on my desk, next to those cannons you like so much, against the poker table, in the elevator…”

Before he could reply, their car arrived at the platform. Which was a good thing, considering how dry his throat had suddenly gone. “Come on Shepard,” he said, opening the door. “I promise, you’re going to like it.”

Once they were in the car, he entered their destination--not letting Shepard peek at the address--and sat back in his seat.

“So, not even a hint?” ask Shepard. She leaned a little closer than was necessary, even in the confined space of the vehicle. “You know, you could tell me now, and I’d still act surprised when we got there…”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re relentless, Shepard?”

“You know, I _have_ heard that,” she replied. “From the Reapers, for one thing. Who I took down, practically single-handedly, saving every sentient organic species in the galaxy. Some people were pretty impressed. Impressed enough to tell me what mysterious locations they decide to whisk me off to…”

“Nice try, Shepard, but I seem to recall that you had a little help. I heard something about about a Turian vigilante. Archangel. Dangerous, deadly guy, all around badass. Working outside the law, taking on bad guys and Reapers both.”

“It’s possible I heard something about that, too,” said Shepard, moving a little closer still. “Heard he was kind of sexy, too.”

“Sexy goes without saying,” Garrus answered, lowering his voice to the tone he knew she liked. “Almost as sexy as his girlfriend.”

“Flatterer.” She leaned in for a kiss, and Garrus started to calculate in his head how much time they had in the skycar before they had to get out. Before her lips made contact, though, Shepard got a good look out the window and pulled away.

“Hold on,” she said, “I know where we are. Is this the Silversun strip? They finished rebuilding it?”

It took Garrus a second to come back to the present, his neck still bent down towards Shepard. “Uh, yeah,” he answered, when he finally got his wits about him. “They just reopened most of it this week. I got a bulletin about it, and I thought you’d want to see how the reconstruction went…”

“Oh look, Armax is open again!” exclaimed Shepard. “I wonder if they still have my record up…” She turned back to Garrus. “Is this my surprise? Date night at the Arena?”

“Not quite,” said Garrus, as their car pulled to a stop. “Some other time, maybe. For now, I have other plans…”

“You’re really not going to give me any hints, are you, Vakarian?”

“Not a chance, Shepard.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus’s surprise is… not what Shepard expected. But somehow, it’s perfect.

Shepard walked with Garrus for a few minutes, still trying to figure out where he was taking her. They walked past the casino, the arcade, the newly reopened Armax Arena, and he still refused to tell her anything about where he was taking her.

He also refused to let her distract him by tugging his hand into any shadowy alleyways, even when she wrapped an arm around his waist the way he _usually_ couldn’t resist.

Fucking snipers with their stupid focus and their irritating refusal to be deterred from a mission.

Even with the new construction, it felt like the Silversun Strip hadn’t changed since the last time she’d visited. It was all bright lights and packed crowds, too much noise and the smell of spilled booze. The grand reopening had apparently gone well, since there were even more people milling around than she remembered seeing during the war.

Garrus took her to a familiar door, just past a furniture store. “Wait,” she said, “wait just a second. This is Tiberius Towers. This is where Anderson’s apartment was… Garrus? Garrus, what is going on?”

Garrus opened the elevator door and keyed in some code. “Your surprise, Shepard. I did tell you it was something big.”

For the first time in a very long time, Shepard couldn’t think of a single thing to say for the entire time they were in the elevator. It dinged when it arrived at the familiar floor, and Garrus pulled her along the hallway to the familiar door.

Garrus looked at her, suddenly looking a little nervous. It was sweet, actually. “Look, Shepard,” he said. “I know I probably should’ve talked to you about this, but I thought it would be a nice surprise, and if it’s not, that’s fine, really, it’s not a big deal…”

Shepard pulled his face down to touch their foreheads together. “It’s a _huge_ deal, Garrus,” she said. “This is an amazing surprise. You… you are amazing.” They stood like that for a moment, the neon lights from outside the window playing over them. “Now,” she continued, “can I see it?”

Garrus spread his mandibles in a wide Turian smile, and opened the door.

“I did get a little help,” he said, as Shepard walked into the apartment. “Liara had a lot of pictures, so we tried to get it as close as possible to how you had it before. It’s the same colors, and the furniture you like, and she even found a piano somewhere…” he trailed off, watching Shepard look around, still quiet. “Do you like it?”

“I love it,” she said, pulling him close for a passionate kiss. When they came up for air, she grinned up at him. “This is… this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Garrus smiled back at her, and kissed her again. “I’m glad you like it. Like I said, it’s really close to the original, because I know how much you loved it, but I _did_ make a few changes…”

“Oh really?” she asked, arching an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

“Nothing major, really,” he said. “Just little things. There’s Turian pillows on the bed, dextro food in the fridge, a couple security upgrades, one or two cosmetic tweaks in the bedrooms.”

“Security upgrades? Garrus…” Shepard could only imagine what he’d managed to include in her-- _their_ \--new place.

“I just want to keep my girlfriend safe,” Garrus said, using the wheedling tone he saved for special occasions. Special occasions like convincing her they needed proximity alarms around the door of an Illium hotel room. “And I promise I didn’t go overboard. The windows are a little thicker, and you can’t see in the apartment from the outside anymore, and I put in a simple alarm system, very user friendly, and…”

“And…” said Shepard, “just how much of the place can be rigged to explode if you think there’s an intruder?”

Garrus had the decency to look a little sheepish at that.

“You know what?” Jaina continued. “I don’t actually want to know.” She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him toward the staircase. “Come on, I want to get a look at some of those ‘cosmetic tweaks’ you were talking about. Maybe break in the new mattress a bit…”

“Why would you need to break it… Oh. _Oh_.” Garrus suddenly looked very interested in showing her around the rest of the place. He moved ahead of her on the stairs, making up the distance with his longer strides.

Shepard laughed. It was kind of an ego boost, how eager he still was to get her into bed. “Hold your horses, Vakarian,” she said. “Give me a second to really let my surprise soak in…”

Garrus heaved an exaggerated sigh of frustration, already waiting for her at the top of the staircase.

“Or, we could go straight to the bedroom…”

Shepard yelped when he scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder--although she’d deny with her last breath that she’d ever made such a girly sound-- but she laughed as he carried her down the hall to the bedroom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus shouldn’t have been wasting his time with wine and music. Fishtanks, apparently, were the way to a human woman’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating goes up to T/M for this chapter.

Garrus set Shepard down in the doorway, giving her a moment to look around at the changes he’d made to the main bedroom. The bed was nearly the same, other than the addition of pillows designed for those with cowls and crests, but that wasn’t what caught her eye. Instead, she was staring at the wall opposite the door. The wall that, in the original apartment, had been covered with decorative, soundproof panels, but was now primarily taken up by a fishtank even bigger than the one in her cabin on the Normandy.

She stood there for a few long moments, just staring at it, with an expression that Garrus couldn’t quite name. His subvocals hummed his sudden nervousness. He’d thought the tank was a nice touch, that she’d like the similarity to her cabin on the Normandy and the chance to build a collection of new fish. But there was a chance he’d been completely wrong, that it had been a mistake to make alterations like this without getting more input; maybe she hated it, maybe she only tolerated the one on the ship because she couldn’t get rid of it, maybe the light was too bright…

“You… built me a fish tank?” Shepard asked, interrupting his admittedly panicky train of thought.

“Yes?” Garrus still couldn’t read the look on her face, and he wished for a second that he had someone else to blame the tank on.

“You built a fishtank in our new bedroom, even though you hate the other one, just because I would like it?”

“I don’t hate the other one, I just thought it was a little impractical on a military vessel, but I know you liked it, and you said the sound helps you sleep, so I thought… wait.” Garrus paused, the rest of her sentence sinking in. “You like it?”

“I love it,” Shepard said, turning back to him. “I just… you built me a fishtank. I guess I didn’t know what to say… It’s just… really, really amazing.” She stepped a little closer, rested her hands on his waist. “Thank you, Garrus. It’s perfect. The whole apartment is perfect.” Taking his face in her hands, she pulled him down for a kiss. “I love you.”

He wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss and pressing her body flush against his. Shepard moaned softly against his mouth, the sound sending a shock straight to his already-parting groin plates. Her hands moved to tease the soft skin on the back of his neck and at the base of his fringe. She lifted one leg, hooking it around him and bringing her core even closer against him. Even through their layers of clothing, he swore he could feel the throbbing heat of her where she was pressed against him.

She was so soft under his hands. He slid one hand underneath the hem of her shirt, stroking the muscles that shifted under her thin skin. She always felt cool to him--Turians ran a few degrees hotter than humans--but he loved it, loved the way touching her seemed to ignite heat under his skin even as she soothed it. Garrus traced the line of her waist and hip bone, stroking a faded scar with his thumb. He knew every inch of her body by now, but he still loved exploring it, mapping out her angles and curves all over again every chance he had.

Shepard moaned again, the sound low and breathy, and moved away from his lips to trace the edges of his jaw and mandible with her lips and tongue. His subvocals were singing, a litany of wordless tones, of _pleasure_ , and _beautiful_ , and _mine_.

Garrus started to take a few steps towards the bed, but Shepard pulled away before they got close. He was disappointed, for a moment, but she held onto his hand and started to tug him towards the bathroom.

“Come on,” she said, with a wicked grin. “Let’s see if the new hot tub is as amazing as I remember…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the short chapters, but I'm hoping to at least update them frequently!
> 
> Go ahead and leave comments, I want to know what you all think!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just smut. No plot, at all. This chapter is the reason the work is rated E.

Shepard led Garrus by the hand, turning away from him to open the bathroom door.

Garrus had done his best--alright, _Liara_ had done most of it, but it had been his idea--to make sure the bathroom was restored as closely to the original as possible. And, all things considered, he thought that he'd done a pretty good job. The layout was the same as before, in the same rich colors Shepard seemed to like. The hot tub was already bubbling away, and, other than the basket of Turian hygiene products perched next to Shepard’s favorite shampoo, you could hardly tell it wasn't the original room.

Shepard released his hand and peeled off her shirt, still facing away from him. As he watched, she crouched to test the water with her hand. Garrus’s eyes were drawn to the revealed flesh of her back, interrupted by the thin black straps of her bra.

She stood up, apparently satisfied with the temperature, and stretched. The movement did wonderful things for the lines of her waist. Garrus stepped closer, pulling her flush against his front. Her head lolled back against him and she sighed as he moved a hand to her waistband. In a moment, he had her pants unbuttoned and falling to the floor, where she kicked them away into a corner.

Now in just bra and panties--both made of the delicate black fabric she secretly loved, hugging her curves and angles beautifully--Shepard turned in his arms. She had to stand on tiptoes to kiss him, pulling his head down to meet her lips. Jaina kissed her way across his jaw and lower, to the exposed skin of his neck.

Wordlessly, she tugged at the hem of his tunic without breaking the contact between her lips and his skin. He helped her undo the clasps, and her small, warm hands slid under the fabric to caress his waist, her touch maddeningly light. Garrus shrugged out of the suddenly-confining sleeves, tossing it to join her clothing on the floor.

Once his arms were freed, he pulled Shepard close again, his hands fitting into the familiar dip of her waist. She moaned breathily, already setting to work on the fastenings of his pants. He interrupted her to turn them and press her body against the glass dividing wall, dropping to his knees in front of her.

Slowly, he peeled her panties down her legs and off, letting his talons scrape against soft skin just enough to leave faint red lines.

Funny, how he’d used to think her human skin so fragile, how much care he’d taken not to press too hard or grip too tightly. But Shepard loved it when he let go of a little bit of control, when there was a tiny bit of pain mixed with her pleasure. And something about seeing his marks on her pale, freckled skin… Spirits, she’d barely even touched him yet and he could feel his groin plates spreading.

He gripped one of her ankles gently, then slid his hand up her calf to the back of her knee. Glancing up, he met Shepard’s half-lidded gaze. She was biting her lip, a flush spreading from her cheeks down her neck and across the tops of her breast. He flared his mandibles in a wide grin and tugged at her leg, lifting it and hooking the limb over his shoulder.

She was completely open to him in this position, her pink flesh already glistening. And the smell of her was… intoxicating. It was unlike any Turian woman he’d been with, almost sweet, with a hint of some kind of musk and something unique to Shepard.

Garrus was glad, not for the first time, that Mordin’s warnings about “ingestion” hadn’t turned out nearly as dire as the Salarian had made it seem. They’d both tested negative for serious allergy, and a weekly immune booster seemed to head off any potential issues. Which meant that, in this moment, he could do exactly what he’d been wanting to do since she’d pulled him into the bathroom.

Leaning forward, he slowly drew his tongue over her slit, the flavor of her arousal exploding across his palate. Jaina moaned, head falling back against the glass and both hands going to his fringe. Garrus smiled against her wet heat and moved his attentions higher, to the tiny bundle of nerves he’d become very fond of in the time they’d been together. He pressed one finger against her opening, sliding in easily as he teased her clit with his tongue.

Shepard moaned again, louder, as he thrust his finger in and out, setting a slow, teasing pace. He used his other hand to brace her lower back, tilting her forward just slightly to open her even more. She rolled her hips against him, taking his finger deeper, his name falling from her lips the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He murmured to her to let go, that they were alone, she could be as loud as she wanted.

Her moans and pleas rose in volume and intensity as he increased his pace, and she whimpered when he withdrew his finger from her wetness. His pants were uncomfortably tight, the noises she made going straight to his fully erect, throbbing cock. Garrus glanced up at her once more, bringing a thumb to her clit and moving his mouth a bit lower. Shepard screamed out his name when he entered her with his tongue, moaning and gasping as he mimicked the earlier motion of his finger. He could feel her thighs starting to quiver, making her lean more heavily into him as her knees went weak.

He flicked at her clit with his thumb, thrusting faster in and out of her tight heat, feeling with his tongue for that slightly rougher bit of skin inside her, the spot that seemed designed for Turian tongues to reach.

She shattered above him when he found it, gasping out his name and collapsing against the wall. When she managed to catch her breath, Garrus gently slid her leg off his shoulder and stood up. He pulled her against his chest and kissed her, his mouth still slick with her arousal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check me out on tumblr, [@autisticinquisitor](http://autisticinquisitor.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Also, my beta has had a lot of life stuff happen, and it's all good stuff, but she has next to no free time now. So I find myself in need of a new beta reader! Message me on my Tumblr if you'd be interested!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut. Chapter rated E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trying to start making chapters longer, so it might take a little longer to add each new one. I have a lot more planned for Garrus and Shepard, though, so the fic will keep going!

For a few long moments, Shepard couldn’t string together a coherent thought. She just let herself melt against Garrus, stroked the sensitive spot just under his fringe, and let him kiss her thoroughly.

And  _ fuck _ if the shine of her own juices on his skin wasn’t the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.

He let her catch her breath, caressing her skin softly while she came back to herself. She could feel his cock pressed into her belly, even through the layers of cloth that still separated them.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Garrus,” she said, sliding her hands between the fabric and his hips. He helped her with the remaining clasps on the garment--and she spared a muttered curse for whoever decided that Turian clothing needed to be such a goddamn pain in the ass to remove--until he was standing before her, naked. She looked him over appreciatively.

If someone had told her just a few years ago that she’d not only be sleeping with a Turian, but that he’d effectively ruin other men for her, Shepard would’ve laughed.

But now, seeing him in front of her, naked and  _ very _ aroused… there was nothing else like it. Jaina let herself take a moment just to admire him; the way his plating had a faint sheen under the bathroom lighting, the way he looked at her with hungry eyes, the way he stroked himself slowly as he waited for her to make a move, all of it combined to make one of the most erotic things she’d ever seen.

She reached behind herself to unclasp her bra, watching his eyes go to the newly exposed flesh. In one long stride, he crossed the space between them and pulled her close, pressing his mouth to hers. He used one arm to pull her flush against him, and grasped her left breast in the other hand.

She smiled against his mouthplates as he kissed her. The first few times they were together, he’d seemed confused by her breasts; he hadn’t seemed put off by them, exactly, but he hadn’t known what to do with them either. 

Now, though her waist and hips were still clearly his favorite features, he’d found exactly the right ways to touch and tease her until she was a quivering mess in his arms. And being able to do that to her seemed to arouse him just as much.

She could feel his hardness against her belly, the tapered, blue-tinged shaft already coated in his lubrication. He picked her up with one arm, the ease with which he lifted her sending another shock of arousal straight to her cunt, and pulled her close, hooking her legs around his waist.

“Hot tub?” he asked, licking a stripe up the column of her neck. “Or bed?”

“Bed,” she gasped, barely able to catch her breath with the way his fingers were slowly circling her nipple. She pulled his face back to hers, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to his lips. His tongue--that fucking long, blue,  _ prehensile _ tongue--curled around hers, moving back and forth. “ _ Now _ , Garrus,” she growled when he let her come back up for air.

Garrus grinned and walked out of the bathroom, kicking open the door on the way. She kissed down his neck, feeling both sets of his vocal cords rumbling beneath her lips.

He carried her to the bed quickly, stopping at the end of the mattress. She laughed as he dropped her on top of the covers, her body sinking into the soft Turian mattress. 

Garrus kneeled on the bed between her spread legs and crawled up her naked body. She kissed him again when he drew level with her, and he rolled his hips against hers slowly. He curled his long fingers around her thigh and hooked it over the spur of his hip.

With a grin, Shepard used her new leverage to roll them over, pinning Garrus to the mattress with a leg on either side of him. He grasped her waist and pulled her close, her name coming out as a long moan.

Shepard ground herself against him. She could feel him shifting beneath her, and she nibbled at the edge of his mandible. Garrus moaned low in his throat, his subvocals flanging.

Arching her back, Jaina pressed into his hand. He tugged at her hair to expose her neck, tracing a line along her collarbones with his long tongue. She gasped out a breath and clutched at his shoulders. She’d never really thought of that as an erogenous zone with anyone else, but the sensitivity of the skin there, combined with how he responded to the sight of the sharp angles, had quickly changed that.

She pushed herself up on her knees, still kissing him as she moved into position over his cock. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him, savoring the way each ridge felt as it slid into her throbbing sex. Her head fell back with a long, shuddering moan, and she started to move. The motions were slow at first, and she braced a hand on the mattress behind her. He let her set the pace, but gripped her hips in his hands. Her hair stuck to her forehead as she broke a sweat, a hot flush spreading from her cheeks all the way down her body.

Jaina could feel her climax coiling low in her belly, her thighs quivering as she got closer and closer to completion.

She slid her free hand down her body, bringing it to rub her clit in rapid circles right above where they were joined. The added pressure made her want to lean back, close her eyes, and give into the sensation, but she forced her lids to stay open and meet Garrus’s gaze, hot and hungry beneath her.

His fingers gripped her hips even tighter, matching her movements until, with a flanging cry, he reached his peak. The feeling of him twitching inside her, of the warm gush of his orgasm, brought Jaina over the edge. She called out his name as the shocks went through her, making her back arch and her thighs quiver.

She collapsed against him, neither of them moving for a few long moments. When they finally caught their breath, she curled up against him and kissed his mandible.

“So much for the hot tub,” she said, with a sleepy grin.

“Next time,” said Garrus.

“Mmmm,” she agreed, yawning. “And hey, looks like the bed’s all broken in now.”

She could hear his quiet laughter as she fell asleep.

  
  


As Garrus drifted off to sleep, Shepard already passed out in his arms, his thoughts went to the other surprise he’d been planning for her.

The surprise he’d been too much of a--what was the expression Vega used? Some kind of cowardly Earth bird--to give her tonight.

The surprise he’d put so much thought and research into finding and selecting.

The surprise currently nestled in a tiny velvet jewelry box in the back of his dresser drawer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback is fantastic!
> 
> And maybe check out my tumblr, [autisticinquisitor](http://autisticinquisitor.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morning after. Shepard and Garrus are dorks

Garrus woke up, as he did nearly every morning, to the sound of Shepard’s snoring.

The first few times they’d slept in the same bed, he’d actually been concerned about the noises she made in her sleep. He’d even done a little research on the subject to make sure that the grinding noises coming out of Jaina’s mouth and nose weren’t a sign of some kind of internal injury. He’d heard humans snore before--his bunkmate at the C-Sec academy had originally been from Terra Nova--but the muted rumbles and sighs Garrus was familiar with had nothing on Jaina. The noises his girlfriend made could rival a drunk Krogan with a sinus infection. 

Eventually, Garrus had gotten used to the sound, enough that he missed it when they were apart for the six months she’d been in Alliance custody. After their private reunion in her cabin, he hadn’t been able to fall asleep until he heard it again. The sound meant that she was safe, close, and in one piece. These days, Garrus almost found it soothing.

Almost.

Because for a relatively small person, she was  _ loud _ . And given that humans generally slept deeper and longer than Turians, Garrus was still occasionally jarred awake sooner than he’d like. 

Normally, he’d just do his best to get back to sleep for a little while--or, failing that, get some reading or paperwork done--and let Shepard get the rest she needed. Girlfriend or not, she was still the commander of the Normandy, and he wasn’t going to disturb her when their work needed her to be well-rested.

But, at the moment, they were on shore leave. Which meant that the only thing she needed to be rested for was… rest.

So Garrus didn’t feel all that guilty about grabbing the blankets and yanking them off.

Shepard groaned when the cool air of their bedroom hit her, curling into the mattress and muttering something. Her knowledge of Quarian profanity was impressive; clearly she’d been spending time with Tali.

She buried her head under a pillow. Peeking out at Garrus, she glared at him, giving her best  _ I’m-Commander-Goddamn-Shepard-and-you-should-not-have-fucked-with-me _ look. It would’ve been intimidating if it weren’t for the fact that she was still in bed, completely naked, and sporting an impressive case of bedhead.

  
  


Jaina was going to kill him. Shoot him right in his stupid Turian mouth. At the very least, fling a singularity in his direction and let him float for a little while and so she could get some more sleep. She squeezed her eyes tighter, burrowing into the pillows.

The bastard was  _ laughing _ . Softly, and trying to hide it, but definitely laughing. 

“I love you, Garrus,” she muttered, “but I swear, I am about three seconds from putting  _ you _ in the fucking fish tank.”

He laughed again, then leaned over and brushed the hair out of her face. “Sorry, Shepard,” he said. She looked up at him, trying to keep an irritated look on her face. But, dammit, he was giving her that look. The same look that had once convinced her to let him install explosives in the glass panels near her front door. Garrus leaned in closer, pressed his forehead against hers. “I’ll make it up to you…” he said. He trailed one talon along the exposed curve of her side, his touch lingering at her waist.

“Garrus…” Shepard said, although her tone wasn’t threatening anymore, even to her ears. 

He was rapidly convincing her that waking up wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Especially with the way he was starting to nuzzle and nip at the side of her neck. She could feel his mandibles brush her skin, the sensation ticklish and erotic all at once. His teeth were like pinpricks, not quite enough to break skin, but enough to send shivers down her spine. As he went, his tongue darted out to trace over the bites he left.

Too soon, he pulled back, his breath on the damp trail giving her chills. “Or,” he said, teasingly, “if you’d rather I leave you alone, let you sleep…” 

Instead of answering, she threw a leg over Garrus, straddling his hips and pressing him back into his pillows. She kissed along his scarred mandible, flicking her tongue to the sensitive underside.

His cock, just sliding free of his groin plates and already slick, poked at her inner thigh. Shepard pushed closer with a moan, and grinned at the answering sound her motion pulled from Garrus’s throat. 

He was just starting to knead her hips with his hands, positioning her above him, when a chime echoed through the apartment.

Jaina froze, her hands still on either side of Garrus’s face. “What was that?” she asked.

Garrus leaned forward, nipped at the tender spot just below her ear. “Who cares…” he cupped her thigh in one hand and pulled her a little closer. “We’re on shore leave. They’ll leave a message, and you can check it later.”

The chime sounded again, somehow more insistently than before.

“I should still check…” Shepard said, trying to put more conviction into her words than she felt. But then Garrus was doing that thing with his tongue on her neck, and she lost her trail of thought for a few seconds.

The chime sounded again, somehow managing to sound demanding.

With a groan, Shepard pulled herself away from Garrus. “I’m sorry, I have to check it, or we’re never going to get some peace and quiet.” She got off of the bed and stretched, then walked to the door.

“Uh, Shepard…” said Garrus. “I think that might be the alert for a vid call.”

She stopped in the doorway and turned to face him. “So?”

“ _ So _ …” he looked her up and down pointedly. “You might want to cover up.”

She looked down, realizing that she was still naked. “Clothes. Right.” It only took a minute to grab her shirt and pants from the bathroom; wearing last night’s clothes wasn’t her favorite option, but she didn’t have anything in the closet yet.

Shepard hopped into her pants and walked to the stairs, that alert still chiming insistently. “I’m coming,” she said, her voice muffled by the shirt she was pulling over her head as she went.

Garrus had been right: a light on the vid terminal by the door was flashing in time with the alert sound. 

Shepard ran a hand through her hair and, with a last tug to straighten her clothes, activated the terminal. It took a moment for the call to connect, and a familiar face blinked into view on the screen. The last face she had been expecting to see anytime soon.

“Mom?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard's mother is a force of nature. Shepard and Garrus have to clear some things up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No smut or mature content in this one, just some family drama.

Rear Admiral Hannah Shepard hadn’t changed much since Shepard’s childhood. The dress uniform she wore was completely crease-free and impeccably tailored; even systems away and on shore leave, seeing her mother managed to make Jaina feel underdressed. Her hair was as thick and red as ever, pulled back in the same professional twist that she always wore while on duty. She’d passed on her sharp features to her daughter, though Hannah’s were framed by delicate wrinkles. Wrinkles that, as long as Shepard could remember, had never increased in number or depth.

Jaina had long suspected that, at a certain point, her mother had decided to stop aging, and the laws of the universe had simply bent to her will.

“Hello, Jaina,” said her mother.

“Right. Sorry, hi, mom,” said Jaina, realizing that she’d been staring blankly at the screen. “You just… This is a surprise, that’s all.”

“Clearly,” she replied, glancing at Shepard’s still-mussed hair and wrinkled shirt. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything too important.” Crap. Her mother’s eye for incriminating details also hadn’t changed. It was just as sharp now as it had been when Jaina was sixteen and trying to sneak back into their quarters after curfew.

“No, nothing important,” said Shepard. “I just finished up some Council errands on the Citadel, and the crew’s on shore leave.”

“Yes, I called the Normandy first. Your AI connected me here. And I am sorry for disturbing your...rest.” She looked past Jaina into the apartment. “Hello, Vakarian.”

Shepard turned to see Garrus, frozen where he stood, halfway between the stairs and the kitchen. His shirt was rumpled, one of the clasps at the top still open. He was the picture of “morning-after dishevelment.” Jaina had seen him less panicked facing down waves of husks.

“Hello, Admiral,” he said. “You look… well.” He shifted his weight awkwardly, trying to force a calm expression.

“At ease, Vakarian,” said Hannah, one corner of her mouth quirking upward in amusement. “I didn’t call to meddle in my daughter’s relationships. Carry on.”

 

Garrus walked the rest of the way as quickly as he could, trying to avoid any more eye contact through the vid screen.

He didn’t _think_ Shepard’s mother hated him. They’d met a few times before, first during Shepard’s recovery after the Crucible fired, and then again once or twice in the two years since. Each time, she’d been polite, if a little suspicious at first of the strange Turian who wouldn’t leave her daughter’s side. She didn’t say anything negative when Jaina had explained their relationship, and even thanked him for his service on the Normandy. But every time they interacted, Garrus still got the feeling that he was being evaluated, and that every time he came up short.

And being caught half-dressed the morning after spending the night with her only daughter probably didn’t help matters.

He could hear the two Shepard women resume their conversation once he entered the kitchen. As he started making Shepard’s coffee--he still didn’t understand the appeal of the bitter stuff--and his own hot _calda_ , they talked about Shepard’s more recent assignments and her mother’s work rebuilding the Fourth Fleet.

At the moment, they weren’t arguing, but in Garrus’s experience, that could change quickly and without warning. Even when Shepard had been lying in a hospital bed, they’d found things to disagree about. Shepard and her mother were too much alike--although Garrus knew enough about human women to know that he’d _never_ mention it to Jaina--and they were both too stubborn to avoid clashing. For now, at least, their tones seemed like they were staying civil.

“So we’ll be there in about two weeks,” he heard Hannah say. “And your father and I…”

“Dad’s coming?” said Jaina.

“Yes, sweetheart, we both are,” replied her mother. “And if it’s not too much trouble, we’d like to have dinner with you and with Garrus.”

“Mom, I don’t know--”

“Or would it be too much trouble to see both your parents in person for the first time in nearly a year?”

“Yes, I mean, no, or…” she sighed. “Dinner would be great.”

“Excellent. We’ll see you then.” Hannah nodded. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, mom.” Jaina ended the call with an exasperated groan.

She walked over to the kitchen and sat in one of the bar stools, then leaned to rest her head in her hands. “I don’t even know why we bothered building the Crucible,” she said. “We should’ve just aimed my mother at the Reapers. War would’ve been over in one conversation.”

“That bad?” Garrus asked, trying not to let any of his amusement into his voice. He knew she hated it, but it was still kind of funny to see Shepard face the one person as stubborn as she was. Especially because the elder Shepard used almost the same mix of diplomacy and verbal battering-ram that he’d seen Jaina use on everyone from Citadel merchants to Krogan warriors.

“They want to come for dinner. _Both_ of them. Shit, I can’t even remember the last time all three of us were in the same place long enough to do something like that.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“With my family… that depends. But they also want to meet you. And at dinner, here, where you have to sit and talk to them and we can’t duck out early.”

Garrus hesitated. This was another of those cross-cultural things he wasn’t sure how to address. Shepard had met Solona, and they tried to meet her for drinks whenever they were all in the same system. He’d introduced her to his father when they’d visited Palaven, had had dinner together a few times since. But he’d only met Jaina’s mother by chance, first when she’d come to see Shepard at the hospital and then on the rare occasion that their paths crossed while coordinating the recovery efforts for their species. And he’d never met her father.

If Shepard was another Turian, he’d know how to handle this. Once they knew they were serious--definitely by the time they decided to live together--they’d have had a dinner for both their families to meet. Their parents would ask a lot of questions, and hopefully by the end of it they’d be satisfied by the person their child chose. It was the first step in a process that would, hopefully, end with a betrothal party and wedding, when their families would officially be joined by marriage.

But what little he knew about human traditions was less clear, and mostly based on bad vids and overheard gossip. He knew that it was once expected to ask a father’s blessing before spending time with his daughter, but that now it was considered an outdated tradition. And frankly, the idea of Shepard needing _anyone’s_ permission to carry out her personal life was ridiculous. He knew that if they ever married--and his thoughts went to that little box in his drawer--their families would probably be involved in the ceremony, although he remembered reading that the level of involvement varied by culture.

So he had no idea whether it was normal for her to be so against introducing him to her parents at this point in their relationship. But he suspected it wasn’t. And, in his opinion, the meeting was long overdue. He just wasn’t sure _why_.

 

Jaina took a grateful sip of her coffee--for someone who didn’t even drink it, Garrus made a damn good cup--and looked up at her boyfriend.

He was shifting on his feet, mandibles drawn in tight, the expression on his face one she’d come to recognize as “uncomfortable and possibly upset Turian.” Shit. Was he more bothered by the interruption than he’d let on? She frowned. “Something the matter, Garrus?”

“No… or, maybe. I’m not sure,” he said, purposefully avoiding her gaze. “Just… Maybe there’s some human custom I don’t know about, and maybe I’m reading more into this than there is, but… Why _don’t_ you want your parents to meet me?”

 _Shit_ . The _last_ thing she’d wanted to do was make Garrus feel like she was uncomfortable--or worse, ashamed--to introduce her parents to her Turian boyfriend.

Shepard stood up and walked around the counter to where Garrus stood. “It’s not like that, I promise,” she said, reaching out to him. “It’s not _you_ I’m worried about. Or, it is, but not in the way you’re thinking.” His hands went to their familiar place on her hips, and she reached up to rest her own on his shoulders. “My parents are… intense. Both of them together is hard for even me to deal with for too long, and I’ve had _years_ of practice. I’ve done everything I could to keep them out of my relationships since I was fifteen.”

Garrus looked down at her. “So it wasn’t just that your boyfriend is a Turian?” The look on his face reminded her a bit of the night before the Omega 4 relay; it had the same mix of apprehension and hope.

“ _No._ I promise. I don’t care what people think of the species difference, you know that. Even my parents. I wasn’t trying to keep you from them, I was trying to keep _them_ away from _you_.”

She sighed. “But you’re right, I shouldn’t have been avoiding this. You should meet them. They should get to know you. You’re an important part of my life.”

He smiled at that, relief relaxing the lines of his shoulders. “Glad to hear it.” He tipped his head down to touch their foreheads together. “You’re pretty important to me, too.”

She pulled his mouth to hers, letting him wrap his arms around her back to pull her closer and deepen the kiss.

Their drinks were cold by the time Garrus and Shepard remembered them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: _calda_ is a word I borrowed from Latin; it was a warm spiced wine drink popular in the Roman Empire. Using it here to refer to the Turian equivalent of coffee, basically a kind of tea or mixed drink, served hot, that they drink in the morning.
> 
> As always, feedback is fantastic!
> 
> And maybe check out my tumblr, [ autisticinquisitor](http://autisticinquisitor.tumblr.com/)  
> (also, I'm still looking for a beta as this fic goes on... message me on my tumblr if you'd be interested!)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Garrus believes research can help prepare you for just about anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who's read this so far! 
> 
> Chapters are getting longer, so updates might be a more spaced out, but there's more coming, I promise!

Shepard and Garrus spent the rest of the morning enjoying their time off. Even with the war nearly two years past, there were constant demands on their time and energy, and it seemed like ages since they’d last had the chance to relax.

They took their time exploring the newly-restored apartment, which was, for the most part, the same as the original. Eventually--and by way of the kitchen counter, one wall of the study, and a couch in the upstairs lounge--they made their way back to the bedroom.

Garrus sat up and leaned back against the headboard, while Jaina spread out on her stomach beside him. Before long, she fell asleep, her arms curled beneath the pillow. It was nice seeing her relaxed enough to sleep; when they were on duty, traveling on the Normandy, she rarely allowed herself more than a few hours’ sleep at once. On the few occasions they had to take a short leave, she liked to take the opportunity to catch up on her rest.

He brushed a few strands of red hair away from Shepard’s forehead and reached across her for his data pad. There were messages waiting for his attention, though most could be put off until he was back on duty. Garrus answered the few that couldn’t wait, then pulled up the book that he’d been reading in his free time. It was one that Shepard had recommended, a compilation of old human detective stories that she’d loved as a teenager. He didn’t recognize all of the customs and places the characters referred to, but he understood enough to enjoy the plot.

Shepard stirred in her sleep, murmuring something incoherent into her pillow. He looked up from the datapad and watched her for a moment, running over the events of the morning in his mind.

Garrus had never gotten this far into a serious relationship before, much less one with a human, and so he had no idea what he should be expecting when they had dinner with her parents. All he really knew about them was that they were both Alliance. Garrus was methodical, liked doing his research, and hated being in the dark before facing an opponent.

Although he did know enough to realize that thinking of the Shepards as his opponent was probably not the right way to start their relationship. Still, more information could only help him.

He glanced again at Shepard, making sure she was still asleep, and pulled up an extranet search.

The first few results for Hannah Shepard were mostly about her time with Hackett and the Crucible during the war, her promotion, and her recent work with the Alliance Fourth Fleet. But with a little more digging, Garrus was able to find older results, ones describing her pre-war service record and family history.

Like her daughter, Hannah Shepard was an only child, raised in a military family. Her father had been one of the marines escorting the research team that had discovered the Prothean data cache on Mars, and he and his husband had both fought in the First Contact war. Hannah herself had been stationed elsewhere when the conflict began, and didn’t serve active duty.

Garrus was a little glad to read that. Getting Shepard’s mother to like him was going to be hard enough without her having started her career fighting his people.

After graduating, Shepard’s mother had taken assignments on vessels throughout Alliance space. She always performed admirably, receiving praise from both her COs and her subordinates. As the years passed, she slowly began working her way through the ranks.

He found pictures of her at the retirement party for her fathers, another with a grinning, fresh-faced Jaina the day her daughter graduated from basic training, and one of her accepting a medal for her service during the Reaper War.

On the whole, his research revealed Hannah Shepard as a good soldier and a respected commander, with strong family ties to her parents and her child.

He had a feeling that she would’ve made a good Turian.

It was a bit harder to find information on Shepard’s father. Fortunately, the time since he’d left C-Sec hadn’t been long enough to forget how to find a lead and stick to it, and Garrus soon found records on Brian Shepard. 

Part of the difficulty was that he’d actually been born Brian Casey, but had taken his wife’s name when they married. He was from a large Earth city, one on the east coast of North America. Like Hannah, he’d enlisted as soon as he’d reached adulthood, and they’d apparently met in basic training. They’d graduated basic in the same class, and while Hannah received her first posting, Brian had apparently been recruited for the Alliance’s Criminal Investigative Service. 

Now that he read it, Garrus vaguely remembered Jaina mentioning once or twice that her father had been a cop, and he wondered if that was part of the reason she’d seemed to get along so well with his own father.

Brian had married Hannah soon after, and Shepard had been born a few years later. There weren’t a lot of records on his service after that. From what Garrus could put together, Brian Shepard had risen fairly high in the CIS; high enough that you couldn’t find information on his work with a simple extranet search.

About a year before Garrus and Shepard met, Brian had officially retired from service and taken a teaching position. He gave his lectures remotely from wherever his wife was stationed at the time. His courses focused on military and intelligence history, and were apparently well-loved by both students and colleagues. Garrus found an archive of his published works on academic sites and saved a few of the more interesting ones to read later. 

He also found that Brian Shepard was a frequent contributor to a hobby site about starship models. Which actually explained a lot about Jaina’s obsession with the things.

Shepard’s father seemed to be Hannah’s opposite, an investigator and academic rather than a career soldier. Garrus had to wonder how they’d managed to come together.

Although, he thought, looking down at the human woman by his side, there were stranger pairings. Pairings that seemed to be working just fine. Thank the Spirits for that.

 

Shepard hadn’t even meant to fall asleep. She’d curled up in her new--and now  _ thoroughly _ broken in--bed, planning to rest a little while before getting up. Maybe taking Garrus out somewhere to thank him.

But the bed was warm, and for once she wasn’t worried about a mission or a battle or an alliance. So she fell asleep.

By the time she woke up, the clock by her bed showed that it she’d been asleep for several hours. She rolled over to face Garrus, who was sitting up with a datapad on his lap.

Jaina sat up and leaned towards him, pressing a kiss to his scarred mandible.

“Have a nice nap?” he asked.

She smiled. “Yeah. Guess my boyfriend wore me out this morning.”

“Sounds like fun.”

She leaned against him. “I thought so.” 

Glancing down at his datapad, Shepard was surprised to see a familiar face. “Garrus,” she said, “why are you looking at a picture of my father?”

Garrus looked away sheepishly, a deep blue flush creeping up the soft skin of his neck. “Research?” he offered.

Shepard snatched the datapad from his hand and scrolled through his recent searches. “You looked up complete military histories for both my parents. What are you researching for, their biographies?”

“I just… wanted to be prepared.”

She looked at him, realizing how seriously he was taking it. “You’re really nervous about meeting them, aren’t you?”

“Nervous? Sweetie,” said Garrus, “I’ve taken on merc armies, geth, Reapers... Do you really think I’m afraid of your parents?”

Shepard said nothing, just looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

He tried to stare her down, but after a little while, Garrus sighed. “Is it that obvious?”

She moved closer and curled into his side. “Yeah, it is,” she replied, as he wrapped one arm around her. “But it’s sweet, that you care so much about it.” She twined her hand with his--it felt natural now, to fit her five fingers around his three--and continued. “And… whatever happens when they visit, you know it doesn’t change anything, right? I know you want them to like you, and I do too, but… what they think, it doesn’t matter to me. I’ve made my choice.”

He didn’t say in response, and she twisted in his embrace, making sure he met her gaze. “One Turian woman, remember?”

Garrus’s features relaxed, and he leant forward to touch his forehead to hers. “I remember.”

Neither of them spoke for a few long moments, just breathing and holding each other in comforting silence.

Finally, Jaina broke the embrace and laid back against Garrus’s arm. “Besides, she said, handing back the data pad. “You’re not going to find what you need on the extranet.”

“I’m not?” Garrus said, and set the datapad on the nightstand. 

“Nope,” said Jaina. “The really important stuff won’t be in their files.”

“Like what?”

“Let’s see… Dad loves to cook, especially when there’s a real kitchen. He won’t want to go out or order in if he has the chance to make the meal himself. And usually you never hear it, but when he has a few drinks his accent comes out. Mom always laughs and rolls her eyes when that happens. Says the accent was worse when they met. He was a boxer, back in the day, so talking about combat techniques is usually a good topic.”

She lost track of how long she kept talking, trying to remember any details that might make the dinner with her parents easier for Garrus.

Although, deep down, she wasn’t sure how much it would actually help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Comments feed writers, so let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus and Shepard try to enjoy the rest of their shore leave, and Jaina gets a message from an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait between chapters! Real life keeps happening (but hey, I'm actually employed now!) Going to try and take the next couple days and write a few chapters at once so I can start posting more regularly. Thanks for sticking with me!

Shepard and Garrus spent the rest of the day together--mostly naked--and eventually ordered takeout from one of the only places in the Wards that served decent food for both of them. They took their food to one of the couches, and Jaina put up  _ Fleet and Flotilla _ on the vid screen. It was Garrus’s guilty pleasure--though he’d never admit it to anyone--and between him and Tali, Shepard had gotten hooked on it too.

“So, anything else you need to know about my parents? Favorite colors, training scores, blood type…?” she asked teasingly, popping a dumpling into her mouth with her chopsticks.

“Laugh all you like,” replied Garrus, “but only a rookie goes into battle without knowing his enemy.”

“Come on, I don’t think it’ll be an all-out battle,” Shepard said. “More like... a standoff. A skirmish, maybe. It’s been years since my mom outright attacked someone I was dating.”

“Very reassuring, Jaina, thank you.”

“Although, to be fair, it’s because my girlfriend at the time was trying to sneak into our quarters in the middle of the night. Pretty sure Mom thought she was an intruder.” She laughed. “Poor Katie. She tried to avoid my mother for  _ weeks _ after that. And an Alliance cruiser is a small place. Not an easy thing to do.”

Garrus laughed too, although he still looked a little nervous. “Well, I’ll try to avoid accidentally getting shot by Admiral Shepard.”

“Believe me, if she shoots at someone, it’s never by accident.”

“Thanks, I feel much better.”

Shepard stood and started cleaning up the empty takeout cartons. “Let’s just try to enjoy our time off. I’m sure Hackett will have a dozen assignments for us to get done in the next two weeks.” She looked at Garrus, who was apparently still unconvinced. “Don’t worry, Garrus,” she said. “Really. It’ll be fine.”

He sighed and helped her carry the trash to the disposal in the kitchen. “If you say so, Shepard.”

They settled in to finish the vid, curling up on the couch together. The rest of the night was uneventful, and Jaina appreciated the chance to at least pretend that their lives were normal.

As normal as the lives of a dual-chirality, war-hero couple could be, anyway.

 

The next morning, Shepard woke up to a new message from Vega.

**_Hey, Lola_ **

**_Looks like I’m officially an N7! And I broke a few of your training records doing it, too. But don’t worry, Lola, you still have me beat on pullups. For now._ **

**_Anyway, I just got to the Citadel. Got something I want to talk to you about. Joker said you’re on leave, so meet me for lunch? You can even bring Scars, show him what a real badass looks like._ **

**_-James Vega,_ **

**_N7-Class Alliance Marine_ **

Jaina sent off a confirmation once she read it, arranging to meet him at a Presidium café.

Garrus wanted to take a look at a few newly-released rife mods--and Jaina was eager to start filling her new fish tank--so they set out early, planning to get some shopping done before she needed to leave for lunch with Vega. They expected a quiet morning on the Presidium to enjoy their last morning of shore leave.

The platform where their cab landed was more crowded than Shepard had expected, some kind of disturbance disrupting the usually muted atmosphere.

Automatically, Shepard reached for where she usually carried a gun, cursing when she remembered that she was unarmed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Garrus do the same, then shift into a alert combat stance at her side. They made their way across the platform, eyes scanning the crowd for potential threats.

Finally, they got to where the crowd parted. A Turian C-Sec officer was trying to direct the foot traffic around a small group of people who seemed to have sat down and planted themselves near the entrance to the platform.

Something seemed off about the group. At first, Shepard couldn’t pinpoint what it was, she just knew something wasn’t normal. Then, all at once, it clicked. Not only were they all human--which was an unusual enough on the Citadel, these days--but every one of them had their hair dyed deep red.

Which, considering how nearly it matched her own hair, was  _ creepy _ .

“What’s the situation here?” asked Garrus, approaching the C-Sec officer.

“Nothing to see here, sir, please--Vakarian!” The Turian broke off in the middle of the standard reply, face brightening in recognition. “Good to see you. It’s nothing, just a demonstration by some human religious group. They like to show up and stop traffic every once in a while. Annoying, but not a threat.” Garrus continued talking quietly with the officer--apparently an old colleague from his time at C-Sec--while Shepard turned her attention to the group of humans.

One of the them elbowed his companion, leaning over to whisper something as he glanced in Shepard’s direction. She tried to smile politely as they all started to look at her, mingled excitement and awe on their faces.

It wasn’t the first time people had looked at Jaina that way. She’d dealt with more than her fair share of “fans,” especially since the war ended. Most of them were nice, ordinary people who just wanted to thank her for her service, excited to see the legendary Commander Shepard in the flesh. It was awkward more than anything else, but harmless enough. 

A few, though, set off alarm bells. Some were borderline aggressive in their thanks, or harbored some grudge against her. They required anything from a polite--but very firm--request for her privacy, to a reminder of her skill with a rifle. Once she’d had to call for backup to deal with an Asari matron who blamed her for her daughters’ deaths on Thessia.

But this felt different, for whatever reason. She didn’t even know if she could explain  _ what _ felt different about it, but it did.

“It’s the Shepard,” one of them whispered, and like a ripple, the words spread through the group.  _ The Shepard...it’s her...the Shepard...the Shepard.  _ Before long, all of them--nearly fifteen in total--were staring at her.

Yeah. Super creepy.

 

Before long, the crowd thinned out enough for Garrus and Shepard to continue on their way. Garrus was glad; the C-Sec officer had said that the group was harmless, but he could tell that something about them had bothered Jaina. She seemed distracted as they made their way through the market, like her thoughts were somewhere else.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out to touch her arm, “you okay, Shepard?”

She started at the contact, her head turning quickly to face him. “What?”

Garrus watched her as they walked, not sure what she need from him. He stepped a little closer and moved his hand to her shoulder reassuringly. “Are you alright?” he asked again, looking into her eyes.

Jaina glanced back the way they’d come, where the milling crowd blocked their view of the platform. “Yeah, Garrus, I just…” she sighed. “I don’t know, I just got a bad feeling.” She shook her head as if to clear it. “It’s probably nothing.” Looking forward again, she continued walking.

“You sure?”

“Honestly?” Jaina said. “No. But I don’t have any real reasons to worry. And Vega’s probably waiting by now.”

Garrus wanted to say something else, but he could tell by the way his girlfriend squared her shoulders and looked ahead that she wasn’t in the mood to continue the conversation.

But he made a mental note to look into the group himself. Just in case. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how, but it looks like _plot_ has snuck itself in to my post-game fluff fic. Oh well...
> 
> As always, I live for feedback, and check me out on [tumblr!](http://autisticinquisitor.tumblr.com/)


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard and Garrus meet Vega for lunch.

Vega was easy to spot when they approached the café; the bulky Marine stood out among the diplomats and shoppers that frequented the place.

Garrus thought he looked good. He wasn’t the best judge of human expressions, but James had a different air about him, now, somehow both more self-assured and less cocky. Physically, he hadn’t changed much; he was dressed down, in a T-shirt instead of full BDU, though his hair was buzzed flat instead of the mohawk he’d worn during the war.

He stood when they approached, and reached out to clasp Shepard’s arm warmly. “Lola!” he said, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Lookin’ good.” He turned to Garrus. “Good to see you too, Scars.”

Garrus extended a hand to shake Vega’s; and if he gripped it a bit harder than necessary, well, it wouldn’t help anyone to let the kid get too cocky. Vega grinned and squeezed back just as hard. It might’ve gone on longer, but the asari hostess interrupted them to show them to a table.

The time passed quickly, as James told them what he could about his training. The details were, of course, classified, but there were a handful of instructors still working that Jaina had known. Vega’s class was small--every species’s military had taken heavy casualties during the Reaper War, and none had fully recovered yet--but some things had stayed the same.

Jaina laughed at something Vega said, reminiscing about an instructor they both knew. Garry's was only half listening, if he was being honest. Like it always was in public, his attention was partially on the area around them, but beyond that, he just liked watching Shepard. She didn’t relax often, especially with the Council’s latest habit of calling her for every little errand that came up. It was good for them both to have an afternoon with a friend.

“What about you, Lola?” Vega said, interrupting Garrus’s line of thought. “Finally going to make an honest Turian out of Garrus?” 

Jaina choked on her drink, her eyes going wide as she coughed and sputtered. Garrus put a hand on her back, not sure why Vega’s statement had provoked that kind of reaction from his girlfriend. 

Garrus figured it must be an idiom he hadn’t heard before; his translator picked up the literal meaning of the words, but he had a feeling they weren’t conveying what Vega was really asking.

“ _ That _ ,” said Jaina, “is none of your--”

Before Jaina could finish the sentence, Garrus’s Omni-Tool pinged. It was a message from Cortez, letting him know that a shipment of upgrades for the Thanix had finally arrived at the Normandy’s dock.

While Garrus wasn’t technically a part of the Alliance chain of command, the Normandy had always been unique when it came to its crew and its operations. Officially, Garrus and Shepard were both independent Spectres, who shared resources provided by both of their militaries in the spirit of “interspecies cooperation.” Unofficially, they were partners in just about everything.

And even though Garrus really was enjoying himself at lunch, he’d been working with Cortez for  _ months _ to get the newest parts for the cannons, and he was dying to get his hands on them and see if they lived up to the early reviews.

Garrus made his excuses, kissed Shepard goodbye, and made his way back to the Normandy.

The cargo bay was nearly empty when he got there. There were the usual crates against each wall, the Kodiak shuttle to one side, and a stack of boxes with the Thanix model number stamped on the side, but the only person Garrus could see was Cortez entering something at one of the terminals.

The Lieutenant looked up with Garrus entered, and smiled in greeting. “Hey, Garrus, how’d everything go?”

“It… didn’t.” Garrus authorized the other terminal and looked over the specs of the new parts again. He didn’t look at Cortez, but he’d gotten to know the other man well enough to know that he’d probably turned away from the console to watch for a reaction.

“Never made it out to the apartment?”

Damn. He’d almost hoped that Cortez would forget to ask anything.

Though it was a stupid hope, considering how much they’d talked already. He hadn’t originally planned on asking Cortez for relationship advice--he wasn’t a big fan of asking  _ anyone _ for relationship advice--but Cortez was one of his closest human friends, and the only one who’d ever been married.

Which meant that, when Garrus had first started thinking about getting more serious with Shepard, Cortez was who he’d asked for advice. And Cortez was the one who’d helped him pick out the ring in the tiny velvet box that was still untouched in the back of a drawer.

“No, that part went fine,” Garrus said, and told Cortez everything that had happened since they’d been on leave. Well, told him almost everything. He didn’t think that their “breaking in the bed” was relevant to his failure to propose.

“Look, I get it,” said Cortez. “Asking Robert… well, it was the scariest thing I ever did. But if it’s what you want, what you both want… it’s worth it.”

Garrus didn’t say anything to that. He knew Steve was right. But for now, he just wanted to focus on installing the new upgrades and calibrating the guns to use them properly.

So he just nodded and murmured something non-committal as he focused on the terminal. 

And then, with a low beep the only warning, the room exploded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look I'm not dead!
> 
> I always meant to come back to this fic, and I promise I have plans for Shep and Garrus. Thanks to everyone who stuck with it, especially those who left comments! I always love hearing what you think.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the blast.

What came next was a series of moments broken up by a painful blur.

A bright light, a ringing noise, something knocking Garrus off his feet.

Someone’s voice—Steve’s?—shouting something, but too far away and through too many layers of haze to make out. 

Movement, though he couldn’t tell if it was him moving or the world around him. There were more voices this time, coming from all directions. Something lifted him, sending shooting pain through his entire body.

Were his eyes closed? Garrus couldn’t remember closing them, but everything was dark and it seemed to take a disproportionate amount of effort to open them again. Above him was a moving ceiling, broken up by a blue face. He thought that the face was trying to tell him something, but he couldn’t focus enough to make out the words.

Lights brought him back to awareness, nearly too bright and shining directly in his face. The blue face was back, his vision clearing enough to reveal that it was an asari, her brow creased as she looked down at him. He still couldn’t quite make out she was saying, but she held something to his face that smelled sharp and medical. Then the edges of the world went fuzzy again.

His last thought as everything faded was of Shepard. 

He hoped that she was okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this is barely a chapter. But there will be another one really soon with more content, I promise!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard gets the news

Shepard took a long drink from her glass, trying to ignore the look Vega gave her as Garrus walked away.

“So, Lola,” he said. “Are you going to answer the question, or...?”

“I said that it’s none of your business.”

He leaned away and held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not trying to be pushy or anything. It’s just that it’s been, what, two years since the war ended? Just seems to me that there were a  _ lot _ of victory weddings, and I think we all kind of thought that there’d be one more.”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Fine, fine,” said Vega. “Whatever you say, Lola.”

“So why did you really ask me out to lunch, Vega?” Shepard asked. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something, and I doubt it was just my love life.”

Vega’s face turned sheepish. “Alright, fine. This wasn't just to hang out and get caught up. There’s something I wanted to ask…”

Shepard took a drink, raising an eyebrow at Vega without saying anything.

“Going to make me work for it, huh, Lola?”

Still silent, Shepard leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. 

Vega sighed. “Alright, fine. They’ve changed a few things about N7 training, but they still require active duty under a current N7. Which means…”

“That you want back on the Normandy?”

“Only if you have a spot for me! I know it’s a lot to ask…”

“James.” 

“...and you’ve got, you know, other responsibilities,”

“ _ James _ .”

“but if—“

“ _ James Vega.” _

He finally stopped talking and looked at her, mouth still half-open like he was going to say something else.

“Of course you’re welcome on the Normandy. You’re one of the best marines I’ve ever been able work with, and anyone willing to fight Reapers head on is someone I’m glad I have at my side.”

A wide grin split Vega’s face, even as he blushed a bit at the compliment. “Thanks, Lola,” he said. “Really. And I won’t let you down as my CO or as my N7 mentor.”

Shepard smiled. “Good. I’ll hold you to that. We’re all on leave at the moment, so take a couple days to get everything in order, and meet me in Docking Bay 24. We’ll get you back onboard and—“

She was interrupted by a ping from her omnitool. It wasn’t from anyone she recognized, but it was flagged as urgent, and her personal omnitool had enough security on it that anyone who got through to her was important, stranger or no. She apologized to Vega and excused herself to answer.

“Shepard.”

“Um, hello.” said a voice. “Am I speaking to Commander Jaina Shepard?”

“Yes,” she replied, a bit confused. The layers of security on her omnitool also meant that people she spoke to knew who they would be dealing with; she wasn’t sure why a caller would be expecting anyone else. “This is Commander Shepard. How did you get this number?”

“I’m sorry, Commander, but you were listed under emergency contacts in Mr. Vakarian’s file, and there’s been an incident…”

Shepard could feel the blood draining from her face as the voice—apparently a nurse at Huerta Memorial—explained that something on or in the Normandy had exploded, that Garrus had been near the blast, and that while there were no casualties yet, Garrus was in critical condition and about to go into emergency surgery.

It didn’t quite feel real. She’d seen Garrus get hurt more times than she’d ever want to see, still had nightmares about trying to stop the bleeding when the rocket hit him on Omega, but those had all happened when they were in the middle of a fight. She hated it, but she wasn’t  _ surprised _ by it if he got hurt doing what they both were trained for.

But to have something like this happen, on  _ her _ ship, when just a few minutes ago he’d been sitting next to her and holding her hand… this was a blow out of nowhere.

She felt herself slipping into the same battle calm she knew from a firefight, getting the information on what happened and where Garrus was almost mechanically. As if from a distance, she heard herself say a few terse words to Vega and order transport with every priority clearance she had as a Spectre. She was trying not to let herself feel it, even as Vega followed her and they both got into the car and flew off.

If she let herself feel it, she was afraid of what it might do to her. She just had to hold on until she could actually see him, and then she’d know if he would be okay. 

She tried not to think about what she’d do if he wasn’t.


End file.
